


City of Resurrection

by Red Paine (xxxxredxxxxcatxxxx)



Category: Kingdom Hearts, Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare
Genre: Adventure, Angst, F/F, F/M, Friendship, M/M, Multi, Romance, warning: mentions of self-harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-10
Updated: 2014-11-16
Packaged: 2018-02-20 16:20:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2435210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxxxredxxxxcatxxxx/pseuds/Red%20Paine
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shadowhunters and mundanes live by different customs, rules, and traditions, but they share one world. Darkness plagues this world, and it's not limited to demons alone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Oh, I'm sorry, of course you  _dogs_ wouldn't  _understand_ ," Axel's voice held more mockery than a five year old's, "You're all too  _stupid, asslickers_."

Angry growls filled the pub, rumbling deep in the throats of the surrounding werewolves. Dressed in denim, leather and corduroy, they were just as menacing in their human form than their canine. The man towering over Axel had a face as red as the drink in Axel's hand. His lips were drawn back to expose sharp-edged teeth. Like the rest of his pack, he was tense and waiting for Axel to strike first. Axel smirked crookedly and gestured to the whole bar, "Who here wants to hump my leg?"

Another werewolf behind Axel had reached his limit. He lunged for him. Axel swerved to the side and broke his bottle on the wolf's back. A pair of burly men grabbed Axel by the arms to hold him in place. More punched him in the gut, knocking the air out of him. His vision began to blur. Muffled voices yelled within the ringing of his ears. It wasn't long before Axel was thrown out of the green swinging doors, kicked in the head a few times, and left on the alley's asphalt utterly and completely alone.

He blew a kiss, "Call me!"

He grunted and propped himself up on an elbow, rubbing his scraped cheek. The redhead stumbled to his feet and looked up. Miniature sparklers vibrated against the indigo sky. A smile touched Axel's lips as he lurched home tripping over things from stray trash to his own feet. Memories sprang up every time he blinked. Blood splashed behind his eyelids. The ringing intensified. Automatically his hands flew to his head, fisting in his spikes. His eyes squeezed shut. Through clenched teeth he gasped, "Stop it."

It only seemed to get worse. He saw faces, friendly and evil alike. Whispers echoed in his head. If it were any other night, he could've blamed the wind. The droning adopted a pattern like a siren. Axel's eyes opened and he cried out, then abruptly stopped . A few blocks away, he saw with clear vision, blue and red lights flashing, all gathered at an intersection. He walked into the open street and got closer. None of the lights were moving. Voices shouted orders over the alarms. Axel approached the scene and saw no demonic activity. Perplexed, he scanned his surroundings. The source of panic was an orange and white plastic gate that cut off a cul de sac. Hanging from it was a sign that read:

" **Wet Tar. Wait until 8:35 am to proceed.** "

Indeed, the street appeared darker than the adjacent one, and apparently wasn't allowed to be touched. Axel didn't see the big deal until he spotted the orange glare at the end of the cul de sac. To his right, firemen whose Sightless eyes looked right through him had rushed past with buckets full of water. They couldn't use the firehose; it wasn't long enough and there was no way to bring it closer. The firetrucks and police cruisers were stuck here. Axel felt a jolt in his chest.

_They'll never make it._

Axel withdrew his stele from his jacket and sloppily Marked balance onto his breast, pausing only to retrace the fearless rune over his heart. The icy object hardly grazed his pocket before Axel took off in a full-on sprint. Despite the ringing and other noises forming a headache, it was as if his intoxication had melted away to let his Nephilim instincts take over. His feet hardly made a sound on the sidewalk as he shot by the firemen, already eight houses behind him.

From the mailbox, Axel could feel the scorching heat of the fire, making his eyes water. His face was highlighted in gold, his vibrant hair shining in the flickering blaze. Anything close enough was shaded in a gold hue. The whole second floor was engulfed in an inferno that reached yards into the sky. Fortunately the front door was unharmed. Axel didn't bother to check if it was unlocked or draw an opening rune. His foot connected with the wood and sent the door flying off its hinges into the house.

Axel was greeted by the living room, mundane enough. Against the far wall was a staircase. What used to be an ordinary wooden set of steps was now extraordinarily luminous. He stopped only to don his hood, then brought his sleeve up to his mouth and dove into the fire. Immediately it clung to him and he could feel it eating away his clothes. Sweat covered his skin in a shiny sheen. Axel paid it no mind. He was used to sweat.

On the second floor were four doors. That was the only outstanding feature. Fire had erased any highlighting details. Axel kicked open the first door to find a bathroom, scorched black. He tried the next: a guest bedroom without guests. The door behind him was the master bedroom. There he found two people, entangled with each other in the king sized bed. Their bodies were as still as their pulse. Cursing, Axel left them to burn together in their already fiery deathbed. He slammed through the last door and heard a cry.

The mess in the hallway and other bedrooms was a fire.  _This_ was Hell on earth. It burned the strongest and hurt to look at. Axel squinted his eyes and saw in the back of the room two younger teenagers, hiding behind an upturned glass table. They'd taken shelter by the inflammable surface though couldn't escape from the smoke. Axel got closer and froze. The boy of the pair was staring right at Axel. His blue eyes projected fear when they locked gazes. Despite the circumstances, Axel smiled at him. The boy jerked like he'd been slapped.

There was a window on the wall closest to him. He walked through the fire and didn't bother to shake it off. Bending down, he grabbed the boy and carried him to the window. His boots broke the glass with ease. Axel poked his head out and saw an in-ground pool just below them in the backyard. The boy screamed as Axel tossed him out, waiting to see him hit the water before turning to get the other one.

She was slumped against the wall, unconscious. Axel went to lift her and stopped when she yelped in her sleep. Her hands looked like they'd been through a meatgrinder. The skin had been burned off. Some chunks were missing; Axel noticed with a twinge in his stomach that bone was visible. Very gingerly he cradled her head against his chest. Holding on tight, he launched himself out the window and landed on his back in the deep end of the pool. The fire on his clothes hissed as they dissipated. Axel broke the surface in a few lunges, his arm still around the girl. He swam sideways to the ladder where the boy waited on the patio. She was set down like fine China so she wouldn't be disturbed.

"Xion!" he got to his knees beside her, and looked at Axel, "Is she okay? Where are our..."

The look in Axel's eyes cut him off. Curiosity, fury, pain and satisfaction twisted the neon green irises. In his pupils were dancing flames from the house. He went to speak and bit his tongue when Axel swerved away from them and retched. Bile and blood and beer trickled down the sides of his chin. He rasped for breath, "She's fine."

"Where are our parents? We have to go back!"

"No." Axel's body trembled, "You're coming with me."

"What? But--"

He never got to finish. Axel's hand cracked across his face and sent him to the ground. The redhead flinched at the audible thud his head made. Sighing, he used his stele to draw an  _iratze_  on Xion's forearms, just above the wrists. As her hands mended before his eyes, Axel observed thin white scars already lining her veins. What he'd thought to be some pet's claw-marks were too even and equal in length. A lance pierced Axel's heart. He paused, then drew her close to him and wrapped his arms around her, his head resting on hers. They sat there like that, Axel shaking and inhaling in short breaths, his mouth set in a grim line. Through the smell of ashes, he could detect a citrusy shampoo. It was a while before he recollected himself and grabbed the boy. Axel's body protested, his head throbbing and limbs aching, as he walked home. The firemen didn't notice any of the three and continued to douse the unoccupied residence.


	2. Chapter 2

The sky had begun to turn pink at the edges. One by one, the stars blinked out. Axel could feel his bones creaking like an old man's. On his shoulder lolled a head of blonde spikes. In his other arm, against his chest, was the girl with black hair. They weighed him down dramatically. He cursed himself for being so weak. As a Shadowhunter, carrying bodies was supposed to be a cinch.

_Is it a cinch after you've gotten beaten up at a bar, nearly devoured by a fire, and then jumped out a second-story window?_

Axel chuckled humorlessly under his breath. He hadn't bothered to take the time to heal himself. Burns, bruises, cuts and perspiration scoured his body. What was left of his clothes hung in rags on his arms and legs. The hood covering his hair was barely intact. He resembled a bloody homeless pirate.

A sigh of relief heaved itself through his lips as he opened the black iron gate. The glamour melted away like rain on a car's windshield. Stone gargoyles, menacing to others, seemed to welcome Axel from the rooftop. He made a face at them and mimicked their growls. It usually made him feel better. This time he pushed through the church's entrance without smiling, and stepped into the lift.

The doors slid open on the third floor to reveal blue hair and a scowl. Though only nineteen, he was considered an adult and therefore had authority over Axel, whom was a couple years younger. He leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his eyes squinting. A moment passed before he spoke up.

"You look like shit, Scarhallow."

Axel let out a heavy breath, readjusting himself so Xion wouldn't fall, "Sexy shit I'm betting."

"This isn't funny," he went on as if Axel hadn't spoken, "We all know you. You go out drinking and come home a mess, even though you always have your stele on you. But this," he pointed to Xion, "This is a first."

"Thought we could sell them on the black market."

"Axel."

Saïx's tone forced Axel to make eye contact. His face became blank and clean as slate.

"You can't just bring mundane children to the Institute. You've been here longer than I, you should know the rules by now. And your clothes…" his eyes dripped poison as they raked Axel's attire, "If you're going to take on Dante's inferno the least you could've done is wear Shadowhunter gear, not a hoodie and jeans. We do have a fireproof rune, you know. Much more, you could have contacted me or someone for backup. Seriously, Axel, what were you thinking?" when Axel didn't answer, he growled, " _Do you want to die?_ "

Axel dropped his eyes, "Don't make me answer that."

The man stopped at that. Axel brought his face up in a dull stare, as if challenging him to ask him again. He didn't say a word.

"They're not mundane by the way," his voice became tired and quiet, "They could see me. Look." Shifting, he showed the other the fading runeson Xion's wrists, "They can be Marked. You should have seen her hands, Saïx. The skin was gone. There was blood. I could see her  _bones_."

Saïx mulled this over, but as always, his expression didn't change. Through the x-shaped scar on his nose, he constantly seemed to be bitter and angry. Eventually he said, exasperated, "Take them to the hospital wing. I'll tell DiZ."

With a huff, he pivoted and disappeared down the hall. Axel took the other way until he found the clear double doors of the hospital wing. They opened automatically at the sense of his presence.

Inside, the amount of white was astounding. The floor was white tile, the walls were painted white, and every piece of furniture was as bright. Eight beds lined the left and right wall with their covers folded neatly at the end. Windows were set behind each headboard, casting an eerie box-shaped light on the mattresses. A station for mixing medicines occupied the far wall, covered in papers at the moment. Axel hated it here. It smelled like disinfectant and disgusting, bitter herbs. All the paleness made him uncomfortable, like it was a bad omen. Coming in here reminded him of all the funerals he'd been to, where everyone wore white.

He released Xion and lay her on one of the beds. He rested the boy in a neighboring bed. The unbearable weight was finally gone from his back; he stretched and enjoyed the freedom of his arms. Flexing, his back made a gratifying crack. Axel paused, then sat on the edge of the girl's bed. Her hands were completely healed by now, but her scars remained. Something blossomed in Axel when he looked at her. If not admiration, extreme respect. Not just anyone would have held on that long.

"Can you hear me, Xion?" he asked her gently. When she didn't answer, Axel peaked over his shoulder at the boy. A blueish-purple blotch blemished his forehead. Guilty, Axel took his stele and began drawing an  _iratze_ on it. As the icy tip grazed his skin, Axel felt arms locking around his neck and squeezing hard. Choking, he dropped the stele and reached behind him. His fingers found hair. They tugged, trying to pull the attacker off, and heard a high-pitched gasp. His eyes widened, "Xion?" The arms stopped tightening, "Xion, stop! I'm helping him!"

There was a hesitation, then the arms slipped from his shoulders, and she fell to the ground behind him. The second her bare feet hit the tile, Axel faced her and observed. Her height reached Axel's chest. Like the boy, she was in loose pajamas, and had the same cobalt eyes. Every inch of her was covered in soot. Axel cringed inwardly at the black smear she left on the bed.

"So you did hear me."

Xion's expression was stunningly slack and unyielding. One might think she was sleeping with her eyes open.

"I'm Axel Scarhallow. I saved you and your brother from the fire."

Her eyes stayed firmly locked with his.

"I'm doing the same thing to your brother I did to your hands. These runes cure injuries. "

Her tone was strongly defiant, "He's not my brother. I'm adopted."

Axel gradually resumed sketching an  _iratze_ on Xion's not-brother, "What's his name?"

"Roxas."

"Odd name."

"Says the guy named Scarhallow."

"It's not like I can change it."

Xion watched his fingers, elegantly weaving a rune onto Roxas. She saw something gleam through the charred coat left by the grime of ashes. It was a thick, worn out band of sterling with a bird-design on it. Axel caught her staring. When he held out his hand, she diverted her eyes to his face.

"It's the Scarhallow family ring," he explained, "The phoenix is kind of a joke. Life and death in one being, always reborn. In mythology, it's supposed to symbolize immortality, but-"

"Axel, who is your new friend?"

The baritone voice entered the room, gazing on thoughtfully. Axel greeted him like a soldier. Xion took a step closer to Roxas, as if to shield him from this stranger. The man was enormous. His head was wrapped in thin, red strips of leather. Little silver buckles held them together. Only one golden eye and a scarred mouth protruded from the maze of bandages. The rest of his body was covered in a matching scarlet cloak. Next to him was a menacing young man with a venomous glare and two scars crossing over his nose. As opposed to the red man, this one had aquamarine hair and was dressed in jeans and a loose t-shirt. Aside from the scar, he looked like someone you'd pass in the streets without a second glance.

He spoke in a low voice, "Some strays Axel picked up on his way home."

"Their names are Xion and Roxas," Axel tried to sound as though he didn't care, although Xion caught the undertone that he was defending them.

"Ah, so he's named them too. Do we have to get them collars and tags?"

"Enough, Saïx," the man sounded paternal, "They are not pets. They are Nephilim."

"From a mundane world. They have no proper training."

He brushed this off, "Young one, who are your parents?"

Xion eyed him warily. Obviously he was the authority here. Perhaps if she cooperated, he'd let her and Roxas go home, "Cloud and Aerith Johnson."

The man had a heartwarming gleam to his eye, "As I thought. Roxas looks like his father."

"Cloud? Cloud…" Saïx perked up, "Wolfstrife? I thought he was dead."

"We all did. Such as a Circle member, to fake their own death to escape punishment."

"Well, they're dead now."

Xion went rigid.

Axel gaped incredulously at him, " _Saïx!_ "

"Did you want me to lie?"

The man hushed them both, meeting Xion's eyes. She took note that unlike other adults, he didn't bend down to her level when addressing her, "I am very sorry, young one. I am DiZ Stormguild, the head of this Institution. I, like Axel, Saïx, and everyone else living here, am a Shadowhunter, as are you. You are of Raziel's blood, his power, and you were born to kill demons. You can see things no one else can-"

"I know."

DiZ didn't falter, though Axel let out a sudden breath, "What do you see?"

"Men with red skin and horns. Women with fish tails and children with fangs."

"That is the gift of your Sight. It's remarkably strong for an unMarked. Roxas can also see such things. He is Nephilim like you, and can see what you see."

Her eyes widened. They darkened and her hands curled into fists at her sides, "Liar."

"Why would I lie about such things?" reading her mind, DiZ spoke to Axel without breaking eye contact, "Take her to the washroom, then show her a room, Axel. Make sure she's comfortable."

Axel nodded, walking to the double doors, looking back at Xion, "Don't you want to stay with Roxas?"

She stormed ahead of him as though she knew where she was going. Axel didn't question it, since she gradually fell into step with him.

The girl kept a stern silence the entire trip there. They descended a floor, where the common household rooms were. Axel watched Xion take a quick glimpse into each room, despite herself. She only allowed herself a couple seconds for each door. The girl was determined not to let Axel out of her sight and never make eye contact with him. How she managed both at the same time was beyond him. When they reached the relatively mundane bathroom, Axel finally spoke, "Xion, wait."

"I don't want to talk to you."

"Never said you had to. I was just wondering if you wanted new clothes. I'm pretty sure I have an old shirt I can give you or something."

She blinked, her eyes still dull. Without giving an answer, she walked into the bathroom and slammed the door behind her. The lock clicked into place, and Axel was once again alone behind a closed door. Annoyance crept its way into him. How dare she be rude to him? He saved her life! No way in hell would he babysit a brat like that.

_What a bitch._

He turned to leave, when he heard the shower turn on. Over it, a wavering, sad voice:

" _Sometimes I feel like I don't have a partner._

_Sometimes I feel like_

_my only friend_

_is the city I live in,_

_the city of angels._

_Lonely as I am,_

_together we cry."_

Axel's feet took root where they were. Xion's singing broke off, replaced by stuttering sniffs. Her sobs rattled his heart. The redhead proceeded to cross his arms, and lean against the wall beside the door. His eyes closed as he listened. It must have been hard, to unexpectedly be thrown into this new life without the option of going back. Axel couldn't understand, as Shadowhunting was all he'd ever known. However, he always secretly felt terrible, hearing someone cry. What he customly did was walk away simply so the sound would fade. This time, he stayed.

After a while the door clicked open, and out walked Xion, clean, wrapped in a towel. Now he could see how pale her skin was, almost like a vampire, lacking color. And yes, as he'd suspected, her damp hair was naturally the color of charcoal. They watched each other before Axel locked his emeralds onto her sapphires. Axel parted his lips and spoke, not singing, but as if he was reciting something he'd memorized for a play:

" _Under the bridge downtown,_

_is where I drew some blood._

_Under the bridge downtown,_

_I could not get enough._

_Under the bridge downtown,_

_forgot about my love._

_Under the bridge downtown,_

_I gave my life away."_

His eyes searched hers, looking for some kind of reaction while maintaining a hard façade. In turn, Xion's blue eyes remained dazzlingly piercing. They made Axel resist the urge to squirm. She looked at him like she knew everything about him. All of his darkest secrets, each aspect of his past, seemed out in the open. He suddenly felt exposed. Ironic, since there was a huge burnt hole in his jeans that showed a corner of his boxers.

"What."

He paused, "You're so short."

"I'm only fifteen."

"Then I guess you'll grow." he hastily looked away and stalked back to the lift. Xion stood transfixed, somewhat perplexed as to why he'd bring up her height. It wasn't as though she was tiny for her age. Compared to other girls in her grade, she was normal in height.

_What a weirdo._

Axel called over his shoulder. She reluctantly got into the elevator with him and ascended a floor. Apparently the hospital wing was on the same floor as the Shadowhunters' bedrooms. The pair passed the double glass doors. Axel stole a glance to see Roxas sitting up in bed and conversing with DiZ. Saïx had vanished unsurprisingly.

_Probably off to kick puppies and pop kids' balloons._

Axel snorted at his own joke, which raised an inquisitive face from Xion. It was so hard not to laugh at her too. He barely concealed it with a Saïx-like frown that twitched at the edges.


	3. Chapter 3

Axel’s room was astonishingly covered in mundane articles. Along the walls, painted a navy blue, were flags and posters of various bands. The only weapons in the room were a couple of chakrams as red as Axel’s hair, hanging above the headrest of his unkempt bed. Xion noted the plain wooden furnishings and the floor-to-ceiling window that provided a terrific view of the streets below. Axel’s boots marked the floorboards with dark smudges as he crossed the room to the bureau and started rummaging through shirts.

Xion closed the door behind her and turned in a full circle, taking it all in. His room was full of what Xion wanted to decorate her room with. Sharing with Roxas had taken away both of their abilities to really mark the room as theirs with personal belongings. She felt a stabbing pain in her chest and pushed aside the thought of Roxas. Regaining her posture, she said, “Strange.”

“What?” Axel gruffed, flinging large t-shirts over his shoulder.

“I thought you Shadowhunters didn’t partake in mundane hobbies.”

“First off, music isn’t a hobby. It’s a way of life,” he stood up, a white garment in his fist. He held it up to judge the size, “And second, you assume correct. We usually stick to our own stuff.”

“Then why?”

Axel forgot to filter his thoughts and spoke sullenly, “Nephilim music doesn’t help.”

“Help what?”

He shuddered as if shaken. Swifter than Xion thought possible, Axel threw a shirt at her, shouldered past her, muttering “your room is across the hall” and walked out the door. The girl was amazed that the door hadn’t snapped from the force Axel used to close it. After a minute of waiting for nothing, she dropped the towel and put on the shirt he’d given her. Granted, on Xion, it was a dress that brushed the tops of her knees. She brushed the black from Axel’s hands off. When she looked at her reflection in the window, she found the logo of the Red Hot Chili Peppers emblazoned on her chest. A longing for her own band shirts fluttered in her like a caged bird.

“Xion!”

The girl jumped and turned around. She didn’t hear the door open, or Roxas walking in. As he approached her, Xion saw he’d bathed, and was given a fresh pair of clothes: a plain white long-sleeve t-shirt and grey sweatpants that were a little too big for him. Shining behind his bangs was a white scar in the swirling pattern of an _iratze_. His face was strained as if he was still in pain. Roxas closed the distance between them and caught Xion in a tight embrace. Tears flowed down his cheeks to dampen the fabric on her shoulder. It took Roxas a moment to realize Xion wasn’t returning the gesture.

He leaned back to see her face, his arms still holding her against him. He furrowed his brow, eyes watery, “Xion?”

Xion’s voice was barely a whisper when she said, “You have the Sight.”

Roxas went still.

“You can see everything I can. You always have.”

“... Xion, I--”

“WHY?” she shoved him away, yelling at him loud enough to wake the dead, “You LIED to me! Every time I came to you, every time I cut, you just, just…” Rage brought her palm up. She slapped Roxas hard enough to force him back, tripping over his pant-legs and tumbling to the floor. His eyes were wide and hadn’t stopped crying. If anything, it looked like he’d been crying harder. Xion pulsed with pure, determined hatred, “You knew. Every time I shouted at a murdering demon, every time I cried over the dead body of a baby wolf… _EVERY TIME THE GUYS AT SCHOOL MADE FUN OF ME FOR MY STORIES AND SLAMMED MY HEAD AGAINST LOCKERS AND RIPPED MY DRAWINGS APART, YOU JUST STOOD THERE AND LET THEM_.”

Roxas’s lips had started trembling. She knew he hated being shouted at. Whenever his parents had done it, he’d bawled like an infant. Because of this, Xion never raised her voice around him. This was the first time he’d heard her speak any louder than a mumble to anyone.

“You were my shoulder to cry on. You were my only friend. How could you do that to me?” desperation clawed her voice,  “You could have told me! Maybe I would’ve stopped believing I was crazy! Maybe I’d actually have friends! _MAYBE I’D STOP WANTING TO FUCKING KILL MYSELF_!”  

“Xion, please…” he whimpered, “Just listen to me. I can explain!”

“ _EXPLAIN WHEN I GIVE A BLOODY DAMN WHAT YOU SAY_.”

She kicked his chin, cracking his head back. The impact pushed him onto his back, staring up through blurry eyes at her as she stormed out.

Roxas held his head in his hands, weeping over everything. His parents were dead, he had no idea if he’d ever go home, and the aloneness. He cried for Xion. Now that Xion hated him, she was truly alone in the world. Abruptly, he jumped to his feet and dashed out the door hard enough to nearly trip the guy on the other side.

Axel growled, “What the hell?”

“Where’s Xion?”

He blinked, somewhat annoyed and amused at Roxas’s feverish tone, “She doesn’t want to talk to you, dude.”

“No, you don’t understand, she--”

“Will be fine. Move it.” he pointed at the door diagonal from his, “Yours is next to hers. Just wait for her to come back.”

“But--”

“She’ll be back.”

The boy was left to stare after Axel as he disappeared into his bedroom, wrapped in a clean towel, devoid of damage, though his skin was decorated in a network of black tattoos now startlingly visible against his pale skin. There was an eye-design on Axel’s chest. An itchy horror ran its cold hand up Roxas’s spine. He could’ve sworn the eye winked at him.

* * *

 

Axel lay in bed, dressed in only a pair of drawstring pants, with the morning sun casting a warming glow on his torso. He’d sprawled on top of the covers, too exhausted to trouble with tucking himself in, and willed himself to sleep. The hangover had devolved into a dull, constant ache, but that was nothing. Having experienced demon poison, night terrors, and the sound of screeching souls, it wasn’t unusual for slumber to elude him. This time it was Xion.

True, he’d thought of other people before drifting off. He’d contemplated Saïx’s past and why he was so cruel for a Nephilim. DiZ’s appearance had crossed his mind more than once. Not to mention everybody else. Xion was no special case, albeit, her face when she’d passed him in the hallway was familiar.

From down the corridor, coming out of the shower, his honed sense of hearing had picked up yelling. It wasn’t low enough to be Roxas’s voice, so it had to be her. Xion had barreled through him with a tear-stained, cherry-red face. He’d seen that look in mirrors countless of times. It wasn’t sadness or mourning, but angry frustration. If he were a child, he would’ve gone after her and asked her what was wrong. Now he knew better.

_What about her scars?_

He twisted his face.

_Get up. She needs you._

_Roxas can take care of her._

_Obviously not._

_Why me? She doesn’t like me. Frankly I’m not that fond of her either._

_That’s bullshit and you know it. You can’t expect her to trust any of you; you’re complete strangers that took her away from everything she ever knew._

_…_

_She is brave, strong, and doesn’t let anyone hurt what she loves._

_If she was strong, she wouldn’t need me._

_And you think yourself to be strong?_

_Think of Saïx._

Axel groaned, heaving himself off his bed and stepping outside. The blonde was leaning against the wall in the fetal position. He looked up at Axel through bubbling eyes. A question formed on his lips, but it slipped away as Axel grabbed him and dragged him through Xion’s footsteps. Through ignored protests, Axel tugged him, coming to a halt and holding Roxas at eye-level, “Where would she go?”

“I-I don’t--”

Axel shook him, “What does she do when she’s sad? Where does she go, what does she do?”

“She… her wr-wrists…

“Not that!”

Roxas sniffed, “Drawing.”

Axel recalled her examining each room downstairs.

_Downstairs. Art room._

_Move it, asshole._

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

The art room could have easily been mistaken for a library. Bookshelves lined the walls, obscuring any view of the wallpaper. In the far wall wedged between shelves was a window seat, heavily cushioned with velvet and yellow pillows, matching the purple carpet. Stacked by the window seat were thick canvases, some already halfway covered in masterpieces. Isles were in the center of the room, circling a raised pedestal, all set over a tarp sheet to protect the carpet. A golden chandelier hung over the pedestal and cast perfect shadows on its flat marble surface. One of the shelves held paints and other coloring medians, a rainbow in perfect stock. When Xion peered in that millisecond earlier, she’d seen it as homely and comfortable, like the art room at school. She’d stayed there at lunch to eat and craft, probably her favorite time of the day.

Now Xion slumped against the heavy oak door, her hands clenched into fists at her sides. The girl couldn’t bring herself to care about art at the moment. Her tears had gathered on the hem of her shirt and turned it a light gray. In any other circumstance, she would’ve been mocked for it. There was no one to make fun of her here.

_Just me and my misery._

The angry headache had morphed into a melancholy bodyache. Her entire being seemed to sting with the pain of betrayal. Crying only made it worse, adding to the nausea and burning sensation. Like every time she cried alone, she wondered if it was better or worse that no one was there to console her or to even care that she was so upset.

Usually, Roxas had found her and stayed with her. She’d tangle her hands into his shirt, bury her head in his chest, sometimes fall asleep on his shoulder, with Roxas’s arms around her the whole time. While her parents had patted her head and told her it’d be okay, Roxas had been the only one who ever took the time to actually listen to her. He was the one who heard her out and held her as she cried. Xion ran her fingertips along the skin on her forearm.

_He was the one who knew._

“Roxas…” Xion didn’t know what to feel. On one hand, the girl wanted to impale him in the neck with a butter knife. On the other, she wanted him to hold her and stroke her back and tell her with absolute certainty that everything would get better. Swirling emotions left her feeling heavy and empty while wanting to explode and spill her guts all over the floor. Dread pulsed through her in reaction to the knock on the door an hour later. Her heart somehow beat faster than its already rapid pace. She gave no answer, hoping whoever it was would leave her alone. If any comfort was welcome, it wasn’t from a stranger.

“I know you’re in there, Xion.”

Axel.

A moment later she heard, “I can see your shadow.”

“What do you want?” she could only manage a hoarse mutter.

“There’s someone here who wants to apologize.”

“I don’t want his apology.”

There was a shuffle on the other side, “Sorry, Xion. Unfortunately for you, he’s not leaving until you talk to him.”

“Go away.”

“C’mon,” he sounded tired, “At least hear him out.”

The girl lugged herself up, absently rubbing the back of her hand across her face in a vain attempt to clean her tears. She almost wanted a mirror. Then, she opened the door and immediately regretted it. Seeing Roxas only made her crave his touch even more. It was difficult to refrain from running to him, or kicking him in the groin.

Roxas appeared no better than Xion. The spikes on his head were in disarray. His clothes were wrinkled everywhere. Xion was taken aback by the daze in his eyes, as if he were dizzy and couldn’t find balance. Roxas never took them off of her. Although Xion knew her face was just as red, she also knew how cold it must have looked, for Roxas looked like Axel, trying to find an emotion. The girl said nothing and waited. Axel had crossed his arms behind them, looking on with a stern face.

Xion blinked at him, “Why did you bring him here?”

Axel’s gaze drifted lazily to the side. He responded in an indifferent voice, saying, “You two are close. Friendship like that is treasured around here.” his breath caught, “Sometimes it disappears sooner than we’d like.”

“Was your best friend killed by a demon?” Roxas couldn’t stop himself from asking.

“No. No, he…”

Like he did before, Axel left the room. Xion stared at the open doors for a moment before averting her attention on Roxas. The doors swung slowly closed and the sound of the latch catching was the only noise for what seemed like eons. They stared at each other for a while. One was trying to think of what to say. The other pondered if she should care what the other had to say. Xion lowered her eyes, attempting to scope the folds in Roxas’s shirt and ignore the feeling of his eyes on her. She imagined drawing them, the shadows and hues, like she had so many times before. More than once she’d gotten Roxas to pose for her. Sometimes, when Roxas dozed off on her lap, if her notepad was handy, she’d sketch his face. It was the opposite of what it was now. He was relaxed, slightly smiling, like an angel. Angels didn’t drool, but she never minded.

Xion sighed, not angry or sad, just drained, “What else do you know?”

“What?”

“You didn’t look the least bit afraid of DiZ.”

“I’m not a coward, Xion!” he sounded like a child, “I can protect myself.”

“No, you knew him. You’ve met before. I could tell.”

Roxas swallowed, “Xion, please, let me explain. You’re all I have left and I don’t want to lose you.”

She let out a sad laugh, “How can I know that..? You probably wanted me to die in that fire.”

“ _Xion!_ ” he said angrily, “ _How could you possibly believe that?_ ”

That brought her head up.

Roxas continued in a tone so firm it made Xion wonder if this was the first time he’d stood up to her. Sure, they’d fought as kids all the time. But he never talked like this. Every other argument was petty and didn’t matter. This one obviously meant a lot for him to yell at her, “I lied. I lied a lot. That doesn’t mean I don’t care about you! Look, I know all about the Shadow world.

“It’s true, I have the Sight. When I came to Mom and Dad about it, they told me everything, what they did, and why we were hiding, why we’d never be a part of that. It’s a life of murder and survival, Xion. They didn’t want that for us.” his hands were shaking, “They brought me to this Institution once, me and my twin brother, Ventus.”

“You have a brother.” she breathed.

“I don’t even know. Mom and Dad showed us to DiZ, and gave us a choice. Ven chose to fight, while I refused. Then you showed up and I didn’t want to leave you alone. I said no. But, there’s a rule, about Shadowhunters that go into hiding, they… they don’t get to have any involvement in the Shadow world. We never saw Ven again, ever. I don’t know where he is, what he’s doing, if he’s alive…”  

Xion murmured, “How come I never met him?”

“He left before we adopted you,” he exhaled sharply, “Your parents didn’t die in an accident, by the way. They were on the list of casualties from a vampire-raid. The Wolfstrifes were always close to your family, the Moongates. We took you in when your parents died.”

If she’d been anyone else, Xion would have buckled and fell to her knees. Instead she absorbed this with a perpetual stare. Xion had never called Aerith “Mom” or Cloud “Dad”, but she didn’t feel attached to her actual parents either. Though her memories of them were few, she didn’t ever remember being happy. It was just a collection of faces and smells, all of which had no value to her. Being too young to know how to fight demons, they’d never mentioned Shadowhunters to her. Her childhood visions of the supernatural were seen as games. It was only when she grew older and lived with Roxas that she realized she wasn’t imagining. Looking back, Xion hypothesized the theory that her parents would have tried to keep her from the Shadow world if they were here.

Roxas pressed on, “I wanted to tell you so bad! They said you were stronger than me and could handle it all. The visions, the instincts, the dreams, the drawings… Then you started cutting, and you didn’t want me to tell them because you didn’t want to worry them, and…” Roxas wiped away the tears on his cheeks, and gasped, “Oh, God.”

Xion felt her own eyes burn, “You were protecting me.”

“Xion, I’m so sorry!” he cried.

“You didn’t have a choice!”

“I could have told you! I-I…”

Only a few feet away, Xion rushed to Roxas and clung to him. Her nails clawed his back as she pulled him impossibly closer and wept into his nape. He didn’t hesitate to grab her and crush her into him. As they were the same height, they rested their heads on each other’s shoulders. Roxas grasped her tight enough to constrict her breath, but she didn’t care. She held him just as hard. Into his shirt, Xion sobbed aloud. Roxas made no sound, but shook with her and refused to let go.

* * *

 

Axel rested against the wall outside the art room. He listened to the not-siblings weep. The boy of the pair sounded different than the girl, he heard. Roxas only sniffed while Xion full-out shrieked. It sounded muffled for some reason. Axel made to check on them and was stopped by movement in his peripheral. There was blue hair and a grimace approaching. Saïx huffed at him, coming to a stop before the redhead.

“Yes, handsome?” Axel smiled.

“What are you, their couples’ counselor?”

“Maybe I care about people. You should try it sometime.”

“Oh, please,” Saïx smirked evilly, “You don’t care about them. You’d just feel bad because you’d be letting what happened to us happen to them.”

Axel blanched, “Saïx…”

“Don’t bother. We both know you will never go down that road again.”

“We could try.”

“And what about Reno?”

He flinched, his brow wrinkled. Saïx had that face again. The man walked off, a smug air of “I knew it” excreting from him. Axel stared morosely after his vanishing figure. It was then that a pang went through his chest. His heart skipped a beat.

Then he ran.

A shaky finger pressed the up-arrow twice on accident in the lift. Swearing, it was too long before Axel reached his room. Red pictures blinded him, pulling him to his knees. By sheer will he managed to open the door and enter his navy room. Axel crumbled onto his bed like a stale pastry. Hurriedly he sketched a Fearless rune over the last one on his chest, right over his heart.

He recalled his first rune-lesson: the closer to the heart, the more powerful. Whether or not it was true was unproven, but Axel believed it mainly so he’d believe it would work faster. Even if it didn’t, his traumatic state made him draw five more, lacing the bare skin of his upper body. Thankfully, the images became less effective, and soon left his mind altogether.

Unyielding valor surged through him, enticed by the Fearless runes. Axel felt like he could do anything. There was no more doubt and no more phobia of his past. While it was useful in certain situations, it was also extremely dangerous. Death was no longer terrifying. It almost seemed like an option. He thought of Saïx, unconsciously reaching for the special I-shaped rune on his shoulder, the Voyance rune on his right hand gleaming back at him. Sure, he was Fearless, but the rune didn’t provide much stamina. Ever so slowly, Axel’s eyes fluttered shut.

Inside his head ran demons, roaring and clawing and demolishing everything he ever loved. Exteriorly, nothing appeared unordinary. The sun, high in the sky, glowed, undisturbed. Cars, pedestrians and birds’ springtime songs brought a symphony through the window. Everything was okay. Axel held on to the idea, however bleak, and drifted off. He never saw the Shadow move from the corner of his bedroom. He didn’t see the claws scratching the floor, and he certainly didn’t see it exit his room and scramble down the hallway, hissing like a dilapidating balloon along its way.

 

 

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

Roxas reclined against the fluffy pillows with a warm, contented smile. On his lap was Xion’s head, sound asleep. Absently, he pet her hair the way she liked it, bringing a purr from her soft, pink lips. They had calmed down and sat on the window seat, side-by-side. Xion made Roxas tell her as much as he knew about Shadowhunters. As he hadn’t chosen that life, the boy didn’t know as much as he’d like. He managed to tell her about their mission: to kill every demon and protect the humans, known as “mundanes” to them. Apparently, Shadowhunters came from a man called Jonathan Shadowhunter, who mixed his blood with the Archangel Raziel’s in the Mortal Cup, and whoever drank from the cup would become a Shadowhunter, as would every generation after them. When Xion asked if this was true or not, he shrugged and said, “It’s a story. In this world, all the stories are true.”

Then she’d gotten bored, or more likely, weakened by the stressful morning. About halfway through explaining Downworlders, Roxas had found Xion’s head resting on his shoulder. He’d let out a soft laugh and moved her so his legs acted as her pillow. This wasn’t the first time. Roxas recalled summers in the past where they were granted free time. They watched anime, read books together, so late into the night that eventually one of them passed out onto the other. He knew now that that would never happen again. Since his parents were gone, and Xion had come to the Institute, the whole situation became compromised. Even if they chose not to fight the Nephilim’s battle, there was legitimately no possibility of them returning to the mundane life. Unlike Xion, Roxas felt oddly at peace with the idea. The mundane friends he did have weren’t all that important to him. If anything, he made them to keep up the façade that he was normal. Xion was the only one he’d ever needed. It didn’t matter where they went now. As long as Xion was there, Roxas didn’t care where he was.

He looked down at her, vulnerable and silent, and smiled.

It was then that the doors opened, and a trio entered the art room. Roxas sat up to announce his presence and the three stopped. Two boys and a girl, all dressed in similar black gear. The girl had dark red hair cropped just above her shoulders. Her sapphire eyes matched Roxas’s and Xion’s, as well as the boy’s next to her. Roxas wondered what he did to his brown hair that got it to spike out like that. On the brunette’s opposite side was the other boy, a head taller than the other two. His aquamarine eyes were glorious in their mysterious beauty, shining through long silver hair that covered his shoulderblades. While the other two regarded Roxas with curiosity, the taller one glared as if facing down an enemy.

“Hi there!” the brunette was the first to speak, cheerfully smiling, “Who are you?”

“Roxas Wolfstrife,” his last name tasted weird on his tongue.

“I’m Sora Heartlight. This is Kairi Rosekey, and Riku Highwind.”

Kairi--the girl--beamed, “It’s nice to meet you!”

Sora elbowed Riku in the ribs, nodding slightly to Roxas. He scratched the back of his head, “Um, hi.”

Kairi ignored them, walking forward so she stood before Roxas. He saw that she was slightly shorter than him. She pointed down at Xion, “Who’s that?”

“Xion Moongate.”

“Damn, that’s an old name. So, what are you guys doing here?”

“We’re staying. It’s already been arranged by DiZ. He gave us a week for mourning, and then we’ll start training, if we want.”

“Awesome!” she bounced, “Finally, more people to talk to!”

“Aren’t there others here, too?”

“Well, yeah, but I don’t really count them. They’re too old to talk to.”

Sora spoke up, “They’re not old, Kairi!”

“ _They’re older than me!_ ”

Roxas thought he saw Riku grin.

“Anyway, we’re going to shower and get this crap off us, then we’re going to go out for some noms. Do you want to come?”

_Noms?_ “Uh, s-sure…”

“Great! Seeya in a bit!”

With that she pranced out the room, Sora and Riku trailing close behind. Riku paused to grab a book off a nearby shelf, probably the reason they came here in the first place. Roxas stared after them and jumped when Xion shifted in his lap. Her eyes slowly opened, landing hazily on his.

“Mmm, what’s going on?”

“Morning. You hungry?”

* * *

 

The five teenagers strolled down the sidewalk, Kairi at the lead. She chatted away with her boys right behind her. Sora had his hands behind his neck and was grinning while listening to her. Beside him Riku had his hands in his pockets, the tension visibly gone from his form. All three had shucked their armour and were now dressed as mundanes, Riku in hipster jeans and Kairi in a t-shirt that read, “Don’t wait for a prince; rescue yourself!” across a crown with an x over it. Xion wore similar attire, as Kairi had insisted she had something that actually fit.

She doubted the redhead understood when she said “but I’m comfortable.” Before all this, Xion would only wear baggy jeans and loose t-shirts, mostly extra-large men’s. It let her move freely when running from bullies, and was generous in comfort. The fabric usually used in guy’s shirts, a scratchy wool, had always been homely to Xion. Roxas disagreed and had soft cotton shirts. Xion never liked them.

Decked out in a plain girl’s black t-shirt and skinny jeans, she’d never felt more awkward. Not only was it silky, but it was tight. It hugged her curves in a way her own clothes never had. The shirt accented her chest and lean stomach, as the jeans showed off her hips and butt. Xion blushed when she noticed Roxas looking at her. When she was about to call him a pervert, she saw he wasn’t watching her body, but her face. Roxas blinked and turned a darker shade of red when he saw her looking back. The moment was gratifyingly over when they had arrived.

According to the sign, the place was called “Glitter Pups.” Inside, it was decorated as an ordinary coffee house, with sofas and armchairs skirting tables that held platters of breakfast sandwiches and menus. The shelves behind the bar in the back were full of colorful bottles. Drinks from champagne to cheap beer lined half of them, sparkling in the sun peeping through the window. The rest was full of bottles holding a stomach-churning dark fluid. Xion tried to ignore it, telling herself this was normal, and then she noticed all of the customers and employees. Girls with neon-colored skin and butterfly wings waited tables in skimpy aprons. At the tables were people with tails, fangs, sometimes horns; all of them were unique and terrifying. A few appeared ordinary, but when Xion peered closer, she saw their eyes weren’t human.

_Get a grip! This is your world. It’s always been your world. You belong here._

_They won’t hurt you._

Warily, Xion followed the four to an unoccupied circle, sitting down on a sofa with Roxas. Across from them sat Sora and Kairi. Riku got an armchair of his own. Everyone picked up a menu and began browsing.

“Um…” Roxas cleared his throat, “What’s A, AB, B, and O?”

Riku answered monotonously, “Blood types. They serve vampires here.”

The blonde momentarily turned green, but regained his posture and continued looking for a less grotesque meal. Xion saw a waitress walk out of the kitchen with a saucer holding a raw, juicy steak. She blinked, wondering if she should be surprised or not. Everyone ended up ordering something normal, Riku with black coffee, Sora and Kairi with hamburgers (cooked), Roxas got a breakfast sandwich and Xion got her favorite, something she’d doubted they carried: cucumber sandwiches.

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Riku unexpectedly spoke up. Roxas looked at him in brief astonishment. He thought no one had heard him when he said he and Xion were in mourning, “Thank you.”

“We all know what it’s like,” Riku sipped from his plain mug, “Every Shadowhunter has lost someone precious to them. If they haven’t, it’s only a matter of time.”

Kairi pouted her lip at him, “Fucking _brilliant_ optimism.”

Riku stuck his tongue out at her, to which she replied with the same gesture. Sora giggled through his full mouth. He swallowed and met Roxas’s eyes, “So, what were they like?”

“Mom and Dad? They,” Roxas swallowed the lump in his throat, “They were really kind, and fun, but they didn’t let us out much. We were only allowed to hang out with friends if they came to our house. We didn’t go anywhere, not even field trips. I already knew why.”

They were silent for a moment. Roxas’s eyes fell to his lap as he struggled not to cry. Xion put a hand on his arm but said nothing. Kairi hesitated before asking, “Why? It’s not like you have the Voyancy rune.”

Roxas looked up, “What?”

“Voyancy. Every Shadowhunter gets it when they’re little to enhance their Sight and combat abilities. It goes on your dominant hand,” the three held up their right hands in unison. Sure enough, just below the knuckles, an eye was drawn. Each was identical, and held an obvious power, “You guys don’t have them!”

Riku sighed, “Calm down. They probably just had fairy ancestors; automatic Sight in fairy blood.”

“Yeah, that’s probably it.”

“Do you guys have any runes at all?” Sora asked, scanning their bodies. It made Xion's skin crawl.

“We got runes from the Silent Brothers’ ritual on infants,” Roxas said, “I think.”

“Whaddaya mean, you think?”

“Sora, hush,” Riku looked at Xion as he said this, “They didn’t live like us. Their parents kept them from the Shadow world. They didn’t receive any training and have scarcely any knowledge about our lifestyle. You can’t expect that much from them.”

Xion didn't know whether to be grateful or not. Oddly enough, she felt a little offended. The words she wanted to throw back at Riku wouldn't come. He'd ensnared her eyes in a look just as intense, but like Xion, Riku was capable of appearing emotionless while holding the strength of a fierce tiger. Though one would think he was angry, the only thing Xion could detect from him was curiosity. Roaring silence filled her mind as she stared. Riku didn't look away either. They openly shared gazes, the silver tiger examining his prey, the prey captured in the beauty of his eyes. Roxas noticed and said nothing. He pretended to be engrossed in his sandwich. Sora was still oblivious, as opposed to Kairi. The redhead had picked up on the staredown and watched with piqued interest.

“You’re part fairy too.”

Everyone’s ears perked up when Roxas opened his mouth. His eyes stayed fixed on his lap, but he spoke steadily without emotion.

“Shadowhunters can have pale hair, but only when they’re older. Your roots aren’t a different shade than your eyebrows, so that means you don’t dye it and silver is your natural color. Only fairies can have premature silver hair. You grow it long so it hides your eyes, which can also only be passed down from the Fay. Blue eyes are common in Nephilim but they're never that shade.”

“Roxas--” Xion tried cutting in, but Roxas continued speaking.

“I know that because we’re not the kind of idiots you make us out to be. Mom was scared of the Shadow world and it’s punishments, but not enough to stop my Dad from telling me about it. He told me all about Downworlders so I could protect myself, should I ever encounter one. Unfortunately, that knowledge was wasted on me…”

He made a sideways glance to Xion, who got the message. Cloud should have told Xion too. She was the one who couldn’t handle the visions.

Riku’s eyes gleamed, “What else do you know, kid?”

“You can’t call me kid until you’re eighteen and declared an adult by Shadowhunter law.”

“Ooh, feisty. Tell me more.”

“Downworlders are werewolves, vampires, fairies, and warlocks and the like. They’re not demons, but Nephilim believe them to have demonic diseases that twist their forms. You think you’re better than them.”

“No we don’t.”

“Yes, you do. You probably think we’re lesser Nephilim because we have fairy blood. That makes you snobby, stuck up, conceited, and most of all,” Roxas looked Riku dead in the eyes, “A goddamn hypocrite.”

At that, Riku got to his feet, eyes blazing, to have Kairi stand up and block his path, “Alright, that’s enough. Riku, this was supposed to be a friendly get-to-know-each-other breakfast. We could’ve done without the antagonization. And you,” she looked pointedly at Roxas, “You just met us. Your father may have been a great Shadowhunter, but he didn’t know everything. Until you know us personally, don’t you dare think you have the right to judge us or claim to know us at all.”

Her speech may have quieted Roxas, but Riku was still on fire. The boy appeared ready to punch the next thing that moved. Instead of exploding, he scoffed, and made his way outside, pausing only to spit, “Circle-son” at Roxas and Xion before exiting altogether.

As Kairi sat down, Sora sullenly ate his breakfast burger, trying to shrink in on himself. For a while no one said anything, until Xion said her first words since arriving:

“What did he mean, Circle-son?”

Sora choked on his burger and spat out a hunk of food into a napkin. Kairi patted his back, calming him down, then turned to Xion, “Circle-son, someone whose parents were in the Circle.”

“But what is the Circle?”

“Was,” Sora hacked, “Past tense. They’re no more, thank Raziel.”

“They were an evil group,” Kairi nodded in agreement.

“Evil?”

“Yeah, didn’t you know?”

“Know what?”

“Your parents, Cloud and Aerith Wolfstrife, along with every other Circle member, were considered evil. They betrayed the entire Nephilim race.”

 

 

 

  
  
  


 

  
  


 

  
  
  



	6. Chapter 6

“That can’t be.”

“It’s true, man,” Sora gazed pitifully into Roxas’s eyes, “I’m sorry.”

Kairi sighed, “With the way you spoke about Downworlders, it was kinda obvious. The Circle was a group of Shadowhunters that hated Downworlders. They waited until the annual signing of the Accords, the peace treaty between us and Downworld, and attacked. Led by Valentine Morgenstern, the Circle slayed the Downworlders’ representatives, their comrades, and Shadowhunters,” Kairi’s breath caught, “... with demonic blades. Soldiers from heaven turned against their own using the same power we’ve been fighting for centuries to destroy. They were barely defeated. Valentine’s dead now, and the remaining Circle members that haven’t been caught are either dead or in hiding.”

“Like our parents…”

Roxas had stilled and let his eyes focus on the table. Next to him, Xion had abandoned her food. She rested her head on his shoulder to feel his head rest on top of hers, but she didn’t need to see his face to know he was still overwhelmed.

“If it makes you feel any better,” Kairi spoke gently, “Not all of them were really Valentine’s followers. Valentine was, admittedly, very clever. Fucked up in the head, but clever. He had eyes and ears everywhere. If you showed signs of betraying him, he’d know. Most stayed simply because they feared what would happen otherwise. I’m sure your parents didn’t actually hate Downworlders.”

“But can you say with sincere clarity that they didn’t kill anyone?”

In response to this, Kairi got up and bent down to Roxas’s level, a reassuring smile on her lips, “C’mon, Roxy. I know you don’t want to hear this, but they’re not around anymore. You can’t attack them with words and ask them why. It doesn’t even matter. Don’t let this change how you feel about them, just remember them as your parents, people who loved you and protected you, and honor their memory.”

When Roxas brought his head up, there were tears rolling down his face. Xion could feel him shaking against her. His fingers came up to hide his eyes as he made sudden intakes of sputtering breath. Very gently, Xion turned Roxas to her, put his face on her collarbone, and wrapped her arms around him. She rubbed his back slowly while Kairi stood up. Xion then began humming Dearly Beloved, a lyricless lullaby Aerith would hum to Roxas and Xion when they were younger. The tune was soothing to Roxas even after he grew out of lullabies. It had the same effect on Xion; sometimes Roxas would hum to her when she was crying, though she didn’t cry now. Cloud and Aerith were her guardians, but Roxas had been the closer one to them.

Kairi reached out her hand, “I’m sorry, I…”

“ _Don’t touch him._ ”

The glare Xion sent her made Kairi flinch. Sora came up from behind and placed a hand on her shoulder, slightly shaking his head. They met eyes, and without speaking, Sora made her understand. Kairi withdrew her hand, muttering “sorry” again before averting her eyes.

“Well,” Sora smiled apologetically at Xion, “Now that you’re full, what do you wanna do? The three of us finished our training earlier this morning so the day is free. We can do whatever you want.”

Xion’s face fell away to her usual blank stare, “I want to go home.”

“Oh…” Sora’s eyes slid to the side, “U-uh… I guess I meant to say, almost whatever you want.”

“We’re not allowed to go back?”

“No. Didn’t Roxas tell you?”

Xion used her fingertips to lift Roxas’s chin, “You didn’t tell me we were staying with them.”

“Xion, what did you think we’d do? What’s there to go back to?”

“There must be something.”

He sighed, wiping away tears with the back of his hand, “Even if we had some distant relatives to go to, we wouldn’t be allowed. A Shadowhunter interfered with our lives, and by doing so, he’s dragged us back into this world. We’re not allowed to go back. From now on, it’s only Downworlder and Nephilim places like Glitter Pups.”

Sora interrupted, “That Shadowhunter saved your lives. Would you rather have burned to death or be Nephilim?”

“We’ve been Nephilim the whole time,” Xion said, “If this life is how you described it, we’re just going to die eventually.”

“You can’t think like that!” Kairi swerved and nearly shouted at Xion, “What we do matters! It doesn’t matter if you’re a human or a Nephilim or a Downworlder! Everyone has a life to live and a purpose to fulfill. And if you can’t find your purpose, then live your life looking for a reason to live! Our time here means something! Yeah, we’re going to die. It’s inevitable, but it will never, _ever_ , be in **_vain_**.”

A yell came from the front of Glitter Pups, probably the manager, telling Kairi to settle down. Kairi swirled to curse him off. She didn’t catch Xion staring at her astonishedly.

“Alright, we need to go,” Sora laughed a little, “Before she gets us kicked out again.”

“Oh, no, this sparkle puppy needs to be put into his place.”

“Kairi! We like this place, remember? Shut up!”

“Like hell I will!”

Sora smirked, then bent to grab Kairi’s legs, and slung her over his shoulder like a knapsack. To this, Kairi immediately protested, punching Sora’s back and kicking the air. He held her up with ease, “Let’s go, guys.”

Sora paid the waitress and led Roxas and Xion out, carrying a pouting Kairi the whole way. Thankfully, the manager let them by without banning them from Glitter Pups. Outside, a gang of burly men had parked their motorcycles and were lounging against them, smoking. They regarded Roxas and Xion with smoldering golden eyes, but seemed to recognize Sora and Kairi, dipping their heads in a slight nod of respect. Xion picked up on Sora’s tension, urging Roxas to walk a little faster to keep up with him. The air lifted a couple blocks later so Roxas piped up.

“Who were they?”

“Werewolves. The owner of Glitter Pups is in their pack so they’re allowed to loiter.”

“No one suspects them?”

“Nah,” Kairi propped her head up on her elbows, bouncing with each of Sora’s steps, “Glamour hides everything from mundanes. Gitter Pups, the Institution, anything supernatural. To a mundane, those guys are just ordinary bikers, though I doubt they’d want to mess with them anyway.”

“The Institution is a closed off, broken-down church while Glitter Pups is a rotting shop open for rent,” Sora added.

Xion looked around warily, “We’re Glamoured?”

“Not unless we want to be. We’re visible, but right now we’re just a group of teens playing hookie, not half-angel warriors sent to destroy evil.”

“Oh, same thing - -” Kairi started to giggle but suddenly stopped and froze. Her stillness alerted Sora, who put her down. Both of their eyes had brightened and widened, locking on to something behind Roxas and Xion. When Roxas turned to look over his shoulder, Sora whispered so low he could’ve been mistaken for the wind:

“ _Don’t_.”

“ _Sora._ ” Kairi spoke in an equally hushed tone, “ _You see it too?_ ”

“ _We should run. We can’t take a Veil._ ”

She spat back, “ _What choice do we have? It’ll just follow us if we don’t do anything._ ”

Sora cursed, then paused to scan the area. There was no one around. It was late morning, so everyone had gone off to work. Here, in a residential district, the only thing that could react would be a dog in a yard. No witnesses whatsoever. The brunette swore again, holding his hand out. Instantaneously, a giant key appeared in his grasp, shimmering with light. It resembled a sword with white veins covering it. Kairi summoned a similar weapon, although hers was rainbow and had flowers on the tip. Xion was engrossed with them, how beautiful they were, wishing she had some pencils so she could sketch them. For a while all she could do was look at them. It wasn’t until she heard Roxas’s scream did Xion turn around.

 

 

 

 


End file.
